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May Ivory can’t understand why her life has been so terrible lately. It seems that fate itself has turned on her…

She would be horrified to know that her problems are man-made, and May is only one of four people who are being tormented...The result of a new gun control study by the CIA. Her three visits per week to the shooting range have put May on an exclusive list of people that are being monitored for gun violence. Unfortunately, the ambitious politician who runs the program cannot afford to wait for her to go insane through natural causes, so he uses CIA agents lurking in the darkness to turn her life upside down. Will May and the other subjects of this terrible study have a chance to learn the truth about those who are ruining their lives-- or will they succumb to the madness?

A former United States Colonel has learned about these unmonitored case studies for gun violence. He has only witnessed the beginning of their potential evil, and in his race to shut down the entire operation, the young man wonders if the damage he inflicts will have any effect, or simply injure more innocent people.

Tales have surfaced of a mysterious woman in Mexico with strange powers, and there are details of her vicious vengeance leaving a blood trail from Costa Rica to North America. Is this woman just modern folklore, or is she a deadly force of nature with a particular agenda?

Read information about the author

I'd rather not bore you with the typical biography. I was born...I got older and uglier. My most significant struggles have had to do with occasional battles against madness, and the diligence that it takes to remain grounded in a sometimes shockingly callous society. At age nineteen, I ventured out into the world; a troubled young man with obsessive-compulsive habits, a wrath of god temper, and a skewed sense of judgment, completely devoid of objectivity. It goes without saying that the world had to give me a fairly rough beating to help me find my more humble roots.

At age twenty-one, I broke both of my hands within six months due to outbursts of anger. It wasn't until I became estranged from my family that this temper began to subside. During that same time in my life, I liked to binge drink, and sometimes found myself in odd situations. I left a party one night...forgetting that I was still wearing a toga. At another party, I sat down on a fish tank that belonged to someone with whom I wasn't personally acquainted. Another night I found myself driving at 110 miles an hour on the highway at 1:30 am, screaming, "There are no [insert expletive here] cops in this town!" I can literally watch the joker sticking his head out the window in a scene from the film The Dark Knight, and say, "I remember what that feels like."

While these are not shining staples in my history, I did promise you honesty, and that is what I have delivered. The story does take a turn for the better, as I discovered a means to let go of my teenage fears and anger, replacing them with strength and a more moderate outlook on life. This period could be considered my renaissance; a time when I reinvented myself on multiple levels, and sought constant improvement. This is also when I became less of a tyrant, and developed a sense of empathy and justice. I suppose this is why I am able to write the protagonist and antagonist with ease, though I dare not ask which better suits my abilities.

As for my writing, I have spent many late nights bleeding my pain into thousands of pages. Sometimes the pen is almost an extension of the veins in your arms, and you simply inject every horrifying, lonely moment into that otherwise blank, white background. You then find yourself reading an editorial review which states that your work was disturbing and cruel, and have to ask yourself if it was that bad...when you experienced it in real life. Although there are some dark shadows in my past, they are not beyond repair, and I feel fortunate that people are willing to give me the opportunity to entertain them. I suppose that for an artist there is nothing greater than knowing that your work hit the mark - except perhaps, that it changed the life of some poor soul. If that can happen, even one time, then all of those hundreds of hours at the keyboard were well worth the effort.